Out of Death, Life
by more secrets
Summary: HoratioCalleigh A bad case leads to a chance encounter and a sudden decision
1. Chapter 1 of 2

Disclaimers: No, Horatio and Calleigh are not mine, they belong to others and all I'm doing is borrowing them. I hope I haven't done them any harm!

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Out of Death, Life "Miami Memorial Botanical Park," the letters on the restrained granite sign by the main highway spelled out. Calleigh had seen an article about the memorial park not long after moving to Miami, but had never before found the need to visit the park, let alone actually establish a memorial. But the case the CSI team had finished up just days before still had her on edge. She hoped that by planting something growing, she could somehow make it right for the life that had been ended so early, so she had looked the park up on the internet the night before and had gone shopping this morning. Reaching over to hold the plant steady on the passenger seat, she pulled off the bustling road into a shaded drive winding eventually to a nearly empty parking lot.  
  
After rolling down her car windows a bit so that the rose bush she had bought wouldn't be cooked while she was in the office, she walked along the pine-barked path following signs pointing to the main office. The front room of the office, when she walked in, was just as sunny as it had been outside, but was nicely air-conditioned to take the edge off the stifling Miami weather. As she closed the door behind her, a brightly-colored bird fluttered from its perch in the back of the office to another perch beside the door. There, it rang a bell attached to the perch and squawked "Door! Door!" loudly but very distinctly.  
  
"Well, aren't you just the smart boy?" she asked the bird as it scratched the side of its green head. As she bent slightly to look at it more closely, it repeated its bell-and-yell trick. This time, it was rewarded by a kind-faced woman who appeared from the back room saying "Thank you, Silver, that was very good. Very good!" After holding out her left hand for the bird to fly to, the woman approached Calleigh.  
  
"Good morning, and welcome. This is Silver, my assistant, and I'm Carolyn. Are you here to visit the garden, or to plant a memorial today?"  
  
"I came to plant something, actually. Do you have a lot of plantings here?"  
  
"Oh, we're getting quite a lot, but we also get a lot of people just coming out to enjoy the peace and to visit the garden. I do hope you brought a perennial? The annuals can be quite pretty, but they just don't make for a lasting memorial. If it's an annual, we do have some plants you can—"  
  
"No, it's a rose bush, if that's all right?"  
  
"Yes, certainly. Why don't you fill in the memorial book here so that we can get the sign ordered, and while you're doing that I'll find a good spot for you to use."  
  
Calleigh took the hard-covered book that Carolyn had handed her, with the current page marked by a ribbon bookmark, but spent a minute or so staring into space trying to figure out to write. 'What, after all, do you put on a memorial for someone you never even met until after she died?' she asked herself. Finally, she decided to look at what other people had written, and opened the book to the marked page. The handwriting of the last entry jumped out at her in its familiarity: bold, upright, square, and totally restrained in its neatness. It was dedicated to the same person she had come to plant a rose for, and was signed simply "HCC." Intrigued, she started looking at previous pages, and realized that there were quite a few entries in that same handwriting, with the same initials. Not just quite a few, actually, but many entries. Letting a tender smile battle with the sudden tears in her eyes, she pondered the true thoughtfulness of this kind man she called a friend.  
  
After a few seconds, she finally decided to follow his lead, and kept her inscription in the book simple: "For Lisa Simmons, too young an angel. CMD." She closed the book, and looked up to see Carolyn watching her with a look of concern.  
  
"Are you all right, then?" Carolyn asked her.  
  
"Oh, yes, I'm fine, just had a hard time coming up with anything to say, and I saw something surprising in there, that's all."  
  
"It can be hard sometimes, yes. This isn't always an easy place to visit, but we don't want it to be like a cemetery where you have the gravestones and monuments. We'd rather have the plants that celebrate life, and have people coming out to enjoy the plants and trees. Now, if you're all set, I've picked out a spot for you and marked it on the map here. We prefer that people don't drive their vehicles in if they can avoid it, so there are hand carts by the parking lot for transporting plants, and there are tools here by the gate if you need them..." at Calleigh's nod she resumed, "...just please do bring them back to the gate, won't you? "  
  
"Thank you so much. But before I go, how did this get started? It seems like a great idea, and I'm surprised that no one had done it before."  
  
"Well, about 5 years ago one of the leading businessmen in the region lost his daughter in an accident. She was a forestry and horticulture major at FSU, and had always loved botanical gardens. He wanted to commemorate her life, so he deeded this plot of land to the city to be used as a combination memorial and botanical garden. He still takes care of all the fees, and pays for the upkeep, the staff, all the maintenance on the gardens and plants, pays for the markers, everything, and lets the public use it as a limited-use park. So everyone wins!"  
  
"That's a very sweet thing for him to have done. Thanks for the explanation; guess I've got a rose to plant, then."  
  
As Calleigh let the door of the office close behind her, she turned her face to the sun. After spending so many hours in the lab this past week – no, to be truthful, this past year – the heat felt good on her body, and she could feel the muscles in her shoulders beginning to loosen just a bit.  
  
She went back to the car, thankful that she had worn a loose white T-shirt and tan jeans today, as the sunshine was nice but was going to make it a very hot day to be digging in the dirt. After claiming a handcart and putting the little rose bush, hand tools, and some other supplies on it, she shouldered her casual handbag and oriented herself on the map. A paved path leading from the parking lot was signed "Gardens and Park," and she confirmed with the map that this was the one she wanted to take. A brief walk past some young plantings as well as some old trees that must have been there before the property became a park led her to a second path branching off, signposted simply "Rose Garden" and "Flower Gardens." The sign on the path she had followed originally, which led over a slight rise and disappeared, read "Trees and Large Plantings," and as she looked at the tree canopy on the other side of the rise she thought she saw the flash of the roof of a parked car. A large vehicle, really, not a car, and a unique pewter-gold color. Looking down at the path, she realized that a wide vehicle, with about the width and tire size of a Hummer, had been driven down that path and over the rise. 'Well, with the number of plantings he's brought in here, he should get special privileges. But interesting we both end up here today. Enough, Miss Duquesne, you have Lisa's rosebush here, so go plant it!' With a second look at the map, she pushed the handcart towards the rose garden, but not without a second look towards what she was fairly sure was a Miami-Dade CSI Hummer. 


	2. Chapter 2 of 2

Disclaimers: No, Horatio and Calleigh are not mine, they belong to others and all I'm doing is borrowing them. I hope I haven't done them any harm!

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Out of Death, Life (continued)  
  
Once at the spot Carolyn had suggested for the rose, she wasted no time in starting in on the digging. Calleigh soon found herself getting a rhythm for shoveling first sod and then earth out of the small hole, and was surprised at how quickly the hole was dug. A short break for a slug of water from the bottle she had brought, and she went back to preparing the loosened earth in the hole, carefully mixing in sterilized manure and fertilizer and breaking up clods of dirt. So intent was she on what she was doing, and on making sure that this rose would be happy in its new home, that she didn't hear the quiet footsteps behind her. Even her "sixth sense," usually so reliable, didn't warn her, and the first inkling she had that anyone was near her was the sight of two leather-gloved hands carefully holding the now-unpotted rose out to her, just above the edge of the hole she had dug for it.  
  
She sat back, startled, and blue eyes met blue eyes. After several seconds of staring into his eyes, she said the only thing that came into her mind. "Hey. How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine. You?"  
  
"Fine, yeah."  
  
"Here, I'll help you finish up." He gently placed the rose in the center of the hole, and held it steady while she filled dirt in around it. Looking at his hands, she was glad he had shown up; she hadn't thought to bring gloves, and planting a rose bare-handed wasn't always painless.  
  
She finally finished patting the dirt in, and pushed herself off her knees to her feet. He followed suit and watched as she firmed up the newly- turned earth around the rose by methodically stamping it into place with her heel, then walked away as she stepped back and took another drink of water. As he came back towards her, she realized just how organized the garden was, and how familiar with it he was, as behind him trailed a garden hose to water in the new planting.  
  
"Oh, good, I didn't even think about how I could water it. Thanks!"  
  
"No problem, it took me a few visits to realize I didn't have to bring water for the plants myself, that they had a watering system here. They just camouflage it well so it doesn't intrude."  
  
He walked away from her again, back to the spigot to turn on the water, and she took the chance to watch him unashamedly. Like her, he was dressed simply and for hard work, wearing a well-faded pair of jeans, a white T- shirt, and what she suddenly realized were work boots. She would have bet a month's salary that work boots and the ever-elegant, well-turned-out Horatio Caine would never be found in the same universe, let alone in the same place. But there they were! Extending her survey, she realized how hard he must have been working; his T-shirt was almost completely wet, and his hair was a shade darker than usual with the sweat that was running from his hairline. His jeans were quite nicely fitted, she decided, and were just at the right spot on his hips to accentuate the very sexy shape of his lean body.  
  
As he came back towards her after turning on the water, she could see even behind his usual sunglasses that one eyebrow – and even his eyebrows were wet! – was raised. A blush rose to her cheeks as he asked slyly, "Satisfied with what you saw?"  
  
"Oh, ummm, yeah. Yeah."  
  
"Good. Here, you have a drink, and I'll take care of the rose for you." He proceeded to carefully water the rose in, washing the dust off the leaves and making sure that the excess soil from the hole was swept back in to fill the depression where the disturbed earth sank as it soaked up water. He finished watering in the new rose, and walked back to the spigot with the hose, taking time to water other roses as he went. When he returned to her after coiling up the hose, he took off his gloves and tucked them into his belt by his left hip. He reached over to a bucket of dark crimson roses he had set in the shade while he helped her, and pulled one out. Making sure that all the thorns were off, and that the bloom was in perfect condition, he set it beside the newly planted rosebush.  
  
"Here, can you help me now?" He reached out one hand for her, and as she took it he picked up the bucket of roses with his other hand.  
  
As she walked along beside him, Calleigh picked up Horatio's contemplative mood and took time to enjoy being outside next to a handsome – 'you mean very handsome,' she corrected herself – man. She followed his lead as they wandered through the rose plantings, until they stopped at a large bush covered with buds and waxy white blooms in all stages of opening. He released her hand to set down the bucket and begin tending to the older blooms. Horatio pulled a small pair of pruning shears out of his back pocket and snipped off some of the dead blooms as Calleigh looked more closely at some of the just-opening blossoms and saw the deep pink in the center of the flowers. Stepping back, she saw the marker by the bush.  
  
"A Belle of the Ball rose, for Belle. HCC" was all it said, but Calleigh realized how deeply he had been touched by Belle King's case. He picked another rose out of the bucket, again making sure it was in perfect condition before leaving it at the foot of Belle's rosebush.  
  
Horatio picked up the bucket as she slipped her hand back into his, and they started walking again through the peaceful garden. As the breeze blew through the garden, they repeated the scene of Horatio wordlessly tending to plants, most of them roses but also other perennials once they reached the other sections of the garden, then leaving a dark crimson rose at the foot of each plant he had tended. She realized that all of these plants probably represented cases he had been involved with during his career, and as she saw so many markers initialed simply "HCC" her love for him, and appreciation of the depth of his character, grew even more.  
  
After an hour of silent wandering, they reached the area where the large trees had been planted, and it was clear why he had brought the Hummer into the garden. The tree he had planted had to be 5 feet tall already, with a circle of turned earth surrounding it that was probably 3 feet across. 'No wonder he's drenched, if he did that all by himself!' she thought. He guided her to a bench with subtle pressure on her hand, and collapsed with a sigh as he sat back. They both closed their eyes and turned their faces again to the sun.  
  
"Thanks," she heard him say in a soft voice.  
  
"You're welcome. And thank you for helping me." They both sat wordlessly, his thumb tracing random patterns on the back of her hand as they both simply enjoyed the peace. After a few minutes, she found her voice again.  
  
"I wouldn't have figured you for a plants type of guy. But you seem to enjoy it..."  
  
"Hmmm. I do. We see so much darkness, and so much of the worst side of humanity, and so much death, that it was literally starting to kill me. This place opened up a few years ago, and the first time I came here was for someone very close to me. It helped so much that I realized that planting something would help with all the cases. It's not a powerful statement, I know, but it's life out of death. It shows me that life does go on, and as long as these markers are here, these victims are not forgotten. Even if it's a hundred years from now, the case files are burned and we're all long since dead and buried, the memorials are still here. Which means these people have not really died."  
  
His voice trailed off and Calleigh realized with a shock that it had been shaking on the last sentence. If it had been anyone else, she would have said that they were nearing tears, but the idea of Horatio Caine letting anyone see that much emotion was unthinkable.  
  
She scooted closer to him, wanting to reassure him through physical contact that he was not as alone in his feelings as he appeared to think he was. She was rewarded by him releasing her hand to put his arm up around her shoulders and pull her closer to him. Even though he had been working hard in the sun, his sweat made only a slight sharp contribution to what she could smell. 'Spicy fragrance, clean sun-warmed clothing, and a hard- working man, what more could you want?' she asked herself.  
  
"How do you decide what to plant? I couldn't think of anything but a rose, but I noticed you had planted all sorts of things."  
  
"You know how much we know about a victim by the end of an investigation. I try to find some defining characteristic about them. It's easier with adults, Lisa was hard to pick out because she was so young, but adults generally have defined themselves. It's usually rolling around in the back of my mind from the first call-out that we get, and by the end I can usually find the right plant." He paused, and chuckled deep in his chest. She could feel the vibrations, and leaned more firmly against him. "You're going to tell me it's morbid, but I actually sometimes pick out plants for living people I know."  
  
"No, it's not morbid, it's wonderfully thoughtful. What sort of plants, and for who?"  
  
"Well, let's see. Alexx is easy, she'd have to be a weeping willow. I've never seen a weeping willow that wasn't providing shade and support for everyone around it, and that didn't have several birds making their homes in it. She's the mother figure for us all, and that tree is perfect for her. Speed and Delko are harder. I still haven't completely decided for Delko, but I decided Speed is a pine tree. They can take anything Mother Nature throws at them and keep growing straight up. It's astonishing, and I admire them, and him, for it. You...you were a hard one. I first thought a magnolia, and then about a week after I met you I realized that was far too stereotypical. Heaven forbid that I should need to plant it, but you're an almond tree to me."  
  
"An almond tree? That's, well, an interesting choice."  
  
"Actually, an almond tree with lavender planted around the base of it. Have you ever seen the almond groves in Provence?"  
  
"You are kidding, are you not?"  
  
"You've never seen them? We'll have to fix that sometime..." He fell into silence again as Calleigh's mind raced trying to parse that sentence for all its meanings. "Definitely will. Anyway, the first sign that there's anything going on in the spring is this absolute drift of white flowers that actually come before the tree leafs out. Then the almonds show up. And almonds, when they're on the tree, are not what you're used to seeing in the store. They have this soft, fluffy outer layer that deceives you into thinking it's this nice soft little thing. But just inside that layer is the very hard shell of the almond. That takes a lot of getting through, but then inside is the almond meat itself. And finding the heart of the almond makes all the work of getting through the outer protective layers worthwhile. And then the lavender comes into bloom a couple months after the almonds start to fruit out. They're actually planted very close to each other in Provence, so that the groves start out white in the early spring, and then in summer the lavender fields right next to them are this intense deep purple. The air shimmers above them, because it's so hot and dry in June and July, and these intense fat bees sort of lurch through the fields getting absolutely drunk on lavender. And the overlying emotion in all of it is peace; that life is going on but somewhere else, and all you have to do in the field is just stand still and be."  
  
Calleigh felt him sitting immobile, hardly breathing, next to her, and looked up at his face. His eyes were shut, even behind the protective shield of his sunglasses, but she could tell he was waiting for a reaction.  
  
"Wow. That is quite a picture, Handsome. You're very good with words, do you know that? Shall I tell you what kind of tree I would plant for you, although I hope I never have to?" She could feel that he had relaxed, ever so slightly, with her words.  
  
"Mmmm. Please."  
  
"A Japanese maple. Like the pine trees, all they want to do is just grow straight up, but at the same time they spread branches out in all directions, as if they want to reach out to everything and everyone around them. The leaves – have you ever had a Japanese maple brush your face with a sprig of leaves? – the leaves are so fine and soft, but so resilient at the same time. It's hard to damage a Japanese maple leaf. And when you first look at one of these trees, all you see is the sturdy trunk growing as straight as Nature will let it, but the more you look at it the more you see. There are some that I think I could study for years and never learn everything about." Now it was her turn to wait with tension for a response.  
  
Wordlessly, he tightened the arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to him, and nestled her head against his firm chest. She felt him move, and realized that he had bent to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. He left his face next to her head for a minute, then said, so quietly she could barely hear him, "That is the nicest thing I have ever heard anyone tell me. Thank you, Calleigh Duquesne."  
  
Tilting her head up, she looked into his now-open eyes, realizing but not caring that their faces were nearly touching. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. You're welcome, Horatio Caine," she whispered. Even if she had wanted to say more, she would have been unable to as his mouth descended on and claimed hers. Her lips parted reflexively, and she let her reactions sweep her into a deep, searching kiss. Seconds, minutes, hours, she could not have said how much later, he released her from the kiss, only to pull his arms tighter around her and bury his face in the hair behind her ear.  
  
"God, Cal, I'm so sorry. That wasn't right of me to –" She more felt than heard him trying to apologize, so softly was he speaking.  
  
In return, she tightened her arms about his broad shoulders. "The one thing you still haven't learned about Southern women, Handsome, is that we only let things go as far as we want them to. And you didn't hear me saying no, did you?"  
  
Another chuckle erupted. "Did I really give you a chance?"  
  
"You would have known it if I was saying no. Now, if you want to continue this 'conversation' we were having a minute ago, I think it really should be in a very private place. Not here in a public park. Yeah?"  
  
He loosened his arms to place his hands on her shoulders and push her away from him to look searchingly into her eyes. "Cal, are you saying....? Are you sure? I mean..."  
  
In return, she straddled his lap and leaned towards him, placing her hands on either side of his face to maintain the eye contact they had. "Another thing about Southern women is that we get what we want. And I've wanted you for way too long now. So, let this be my answer..." Abandoning speech, she leaned even closer and kissed him, a kiss that he gladly deepened when he realized what she was doing. She quit resisting gravity and let it pull her completely against him, one tiny part of her mind noting even as they kissed that certainly one part of him wanted the same thing she wanted, even if his brain still wasn't sure it was fair to her. She felt his hands roaming across her back and sliding underneath her shirt as if he wanted nothing between them, not even something as light as a T-shirt, and imitated him by pulling his shirt free of his jeans and luxuriating in the feel of his well-sprung chest under her hands.  
  
Finally breaking the kiss, they rested against each other for a few minutes to recover. Horatio was the first to break the silence. "I think...we had better pull ourselves together and go...somewhere a bit more private, yes. Shall we?" Ever the gentleman, he helped her stand up. Still holding hands, they worked together to stow the tools and planting material in the back of his Hummer, then he led her to the passenger seat and helped her settle into the seat before giving her a sensual kiss below her ear. He went around the front of the car, and she unabashedly watched him move, reveling in the fact that he would shortly be hers. He drove them to where she had planted Lisa's rose, helped her collect the tools she had needed and stow them in the cargo area, and then they drove back to the parking lot. As he drove, she reflected that perhaps the tools would have gotten into the Hummer a lot faster if they weren't interrupting each other with caresses so often. But it was a lot more fun that way!  
  
He pulled up in the lot so that they could empty the back of the Hummer, then walked her to her car. Turning, she leaned against him, and tilted her head up wordlessly for another kiss which was freely given. Leaning against his chest, she asked, "Horatio, where are we going?"  
  
"I don't know. Do we need to plan out all that much more than today?"  
  
"I didn't mean with this, I meant, where are we going now? Today?" She felt him chuckle at her indignant response as she pulled away to look up at his laughing face.  
  
"I know what you meant, I just couldn't resist it. Shall we make it my place? I was actually going to call you later today to invite you for dinner this evening, so I've got food..."  
  
"You and food in the same place? Be still my heart! All right, your place it is." He tucked her into her car, his fingers lingering on her shoulder and his lips on hers, before he jogged back to his waiting Hummer and prepared to drive away.  
  
As she followed him onto the highway, she looked in her rearview mirror at the Memorial Park sign. Out of death comes life indeed, she thought, and smiled as she anticipated what was to come. 


End file.
